


because i'm still in love with you (i wanna see you dance again.)

by feyre_darling



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, JJ (Outer Banks) Needs a Hug, Post-Outer Banks Season 1, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, That is an actual tag wow, Underage Drinking, also pope is not super important in this, and now i'm writing this because i need jj and kiara in my life, and now jj doesn't think he's straight either, because i think they need to calm down, before they get into relationship stuff, but also they act like a couple lol, but i still love him don't worry, but just jj with some tourist oops, but yes eventually they will i promise!, don't do drugs kids, i'm so sad the last episode broke me, is anyone really straight though, jj is just not having a good time right now, kiara does a lot of yoga in this, kiara is totally pansexual, lots of smoking pot haha, pope is basically M.I.A, probably not, they wont get together straight away, this is purely relationship building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24388108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feyre_darling/pseuds/feyre_darling
Summary: “Shh.” Her breath is warm against the back of his neck. “You can, just don’t think about it. Listen to me, okay, I’m gonna tell you…” she pauses, and JJ can feel himself start to relax as her legs intertwines with his, hand moving gently to uncurl his hands out of fists and link their fingers together. “-I’m gonna tell you a story, okay? I’m gonna tell it to you and you’ve gotta just concentrate on my voice, yeah?”or- post season one; John B and Sarah are gone, Pope is M.I.A and Kiara just wants to help JJ stop drinking so much.mostly focusing on JJ and Kie's relationship, with some past Sarah & Kiara mentioned, + JJ's childhood love for John B that definitely wasn't platonic at some points :)
Relationships: JJ/John B. Routledge, JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks), Sarah Cameron/Kiara
Comments: 85
Kudos: 366





	1. You'll try green tea and never look back.

**Author's Note:**

> hi!
> 
> this is my first OBX fanfic, but i have had SO MANY ideas since i finished the show. I would love to see JJ and Kie's relationship develop in the next season, but i hope it takes time, because i think they need to sort themselves out mentally before any relationships happen. having said that, i do think jj and kiara have a lot more chemistry than her and pope (sorry pope i love u !) The title is from Neil Youngs song 'Harvest Moon' that reminds me so much of these two!
> 
> hope you enjoy it. no suprises because it's me and apparently i eat angst for breakfast, but this is kind of sad. jj has a lot of feelings ok!!  
> TW: mentions of alcohol abuse. :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw- alchohol abuse & implied physical abuse :(
> 
> read safely xx

-JJ-

JJ wakes up with the worst headache he’s ever had in his life, and he knows it’s last night’s alcohol from the way his temples pulse and throb like he’s been hit with a wrench, every beat sending shockwaves of nausea and pain right through his skull. He doesn’t make it to the bathroom in time, so he has to settle for the kitchen sink- not the most hygienic place to throw up in, but JJ decides it’s better than the floor- and he really doesn’t have that much time to think, anyway. When the worst of it is over, he turns the tap on and spits down the drain, grimacing at the taste of vodka and the awful way it burns as it comes back up. The sight makes him gag, so he shuts his eyes and holds onto the counter for a minute, breathing heavily, teeth pressed together so it doesn’t happen again, and waits until the water has washed it away and he can open his eyes again. 

There’s a part of him that feels guilty, for getting shitfaced by himself instead of talking about his feelings, like Kiara’s been trying to get him to do- although the nausea is doing a fantastic job of distracting from feeling anything other than sick, so the guilt isn’t too bad, for now. He knows he shouldn’t have drunk so much, but he couldn’t help it. He needed it.

Fuck. He’s turning into his dad, and he knows it. It makes him feel worse. 

It’s been six days since John B and Sarah disappeared, and since then he’s gotten wasted every single night- usually waking up faced down on the floor of John B’s old room, or in the hammock outside, even in the bed with Kiara, thought they haven’t talked about it since and JJ is fine with that. They haven’t really talked about anything for a while, if he thinks about it; not since Kie and Pope had that argument outside the chateau that ended in Kiara sobbing on the kitchen floor and Pope nowhere to be found.

They haven’t seen him since. He texted Kiara the next day, telling her his dad needed him home for a while. When he ended the call- JJ remembers it clearly, although he doesn’t like to- Kiara just stood there for a moment, quietly. Then she took the phone outside and smashed it on the ground, calling bullshit and yelling about how ‘We’re Pogues, we’re supposed to have each other’s backs, and he’s fucking leaving us now, right when we need each other? This is bullshit, JJ! It’s not all about him, it’s about all of us!’ It was like when JJ broke down in the hot tub, except this time there was no Pope, and Kiara was the one having a complete breakdown instead. 

JJ wishes it were him. He would have done anything, in that moment, to switch places with her. He couldn’t do anything but hold her as she cried and cried, and when she fell asleep he carried her to the bedroom and covered her with a quilt, sitting awkwardly at the edge of the bed, wanting to go to sleep with her right then and there but knowing that the bottle of vodka waiting for him in the kitchen was the only way he would be able to. He didn’t think she would appreciate waking up next to him in the morning while he puked into a trashcan, so he left and took his place in the hammock outside, downing most of the alcohol in one go and passing out not long after. 

She gets drunk with him once, two nights after her fight with Pope. They sat around all day, smoking joints and swinging in the hammock, swigging from bottles of warm beer left out in the sun. Not talking, really; it wasn’t like they had anything to say. That night, they got so drunk JJ doesn’t remember anything, except the part when he woke up the next morning with no shirt on and Kiara’s bra on the floor. He doesn’t remember her coming into his room- maybe she didn’t, but her clothes on his floor suggest otherwise. Still, she’s gone when he gets up, and doesn’t come back until the evening- ‘Sorry, my parents wanted me back to help with something. Would’ve texted you, but, y’know, phone’s smashed.’ JJ realises this is probably her trying to avoid him, and wonders briefly if she remembers any more than he does from that night, but he quickly shakes it off, and knows better than to bring it up.

Back in the kitchen, when he’s finished bringing the contents of what little he’d eaten the day before into the sink, JJ splashes some cold water on his face and grabs a shirt slung over the couch. Kiara is awake and waiting for him on the porch as usual. She doesn’t say anything, but JJ can tell she’s anxious. The way her eyebrows get scrunched together, lips drawn into a tight line, teeth chewing nervously on her bottom lip; he knows the signs. They get about halfway down the beach when JJ has to sit down. He’s nauseous, and dizzy, and his head hurts- and he knows Kiara knows this, because it’s happened every day for the past six days. After a few minutes, it’s clear he’s not going to be able to get up anytime soon, so she comes to sit next to him on the sand- head dropping gently onto his shoulder, yoga mat tucked under one arm. 

JJ sighs heavily. “Fuck, Kie.” He says, hand rubbing at his face. And then, because he can’t think of anything else to say, he wraps his arm around her shoulder, and isn’t at all surprised when she leans further into his touch, sighing a little as she does so. 

He doesn’t know when they started acting like this. Not like a couple- fuck no, Pope would kill him- but just… JJ doesn’t even fucking know. Just different. Sharing a bed, sometimes. Coming out to the beach every morning so Kiara can do her yoga, and he can sit and nurse his hangover until the evening when everything would start over again. Holding hands, shoulders bumping together as they walk, not saying anything but not needing to. It's like having someone know exactly what you're thinking without having to open your mouth, know exactly when the right time was to yell at you for drinking so much, and when to let it slide and pass you the bottle opener in silence.

__They’re not a couple. They’re nothing like it. Not even close._ _

__JJ tries to tell himself this- even gets so desperate he starts repeating it to himself, over and over in his head even as Kiara sits with him on the beach, hair messy and eyes dark from days of no sleep, and takes his face in her hands._ _

__“You’ve gotta stop, JJ.” She says quietly- and that’s all she has to say, because JJ knows exactly what she’s talking about. He shakes his head._ _

__“Can’t. Guess that’s what happens when you live on the Cut with a shitty dad and no money. It was kinda inevitable, right? At least I’m not a Kook, Kie. I’d rather be an asshole alcoholic like my dad than a Kook.”_ _

__JJ hates himself as soon as he says it. Of course he doesn’t want to be like his fucking dad. The thought of it makes him feel sick to his stomach- sicker than the alcohol’s making him, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut as the wave of nausea rolls over. When he opens them, Kiara is looking down at the sand, and JJ can tell she’s thinking of whether to keep talking, or let it drop. They’ve started this conversation a million times over the past few days, when Kiara finally realised his drinking wasn’t going to be temporary. They’ve started it a million times, and every single time JJ has made it stop. With humour, or sarcasm, or simply just walking away; of course, he feels fucking awful every time, but it’s the only thing he can think of to do. He doesn’t want to talk about it, because then he’ll have to face up to the fact that John B is gone and he’s turning into his dad and he definitely, _definitely _doesn’t deserve Kiara, her friendship, whatever the fuck this is.___ _

____But this time, JJ knows Kiara isn’t going to let it go again. He can tell straight away by the way she keeps her hands on his face, one of them going up into his hair, looking him straight in the eye, gaze fixed and determined._ _ _ _

____“You have to talk about it.” She says, and her finger is on his lips before he has chance to say anything else; “-and I know you don’t want to, but we have to. It’s gonna fuck us up if we keep it all in, you know that.”_ _ _ _

____“We’re already fucked up, Kie. _you _know that.”___ _ _ _

______Kiara leans forward slowly, and their foreheads bump together. JJ can feel her breath on his skin._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You have to talk to me, because you’ve spent the last week making sure I was okay and not giving a shit about yourself. Now it’s your turn. Talk.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Your hands are cold.” He whispers. Kiara lets out a breathy laugh, one that makes you realise how little you’ve been laughing, one that you have to force out because you can’t remember what it feels like to actually _laugh _like a normal person.___ _ _ _ _ _

________“They’re always like this.” She says._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________JJ knows._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________On the horizon, far past the beach and out along the sea, he can see the sun- right in the middle of the sky, gold and yellow and red all swirling around like mixing paint on a canvas. It’s so bright, JJ has to close his eyes. He’s glad, because if Kiara really is going to make him sit through a fucking therapy lesson, he’d rather not have to look at her when he’s doing it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You look like you’ve just passed out sitting up.” Kiara’s voice is far away. “You’d better not have, ‘cause there’s no way I’m dragging your ass up the beach, you’re too heavy.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________JJ forces out a smile, though he can’t tell if it looks that way or more like a grimace._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“It’s ‘cause of my abs, baby. Pure muscle, that’s what you’re lookin’ at.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Pure muscle. Sure. Tell that to John B, and he’ll-” Kiara stops talking, and gasps a little, like she’s just been hit by something. JJ knows she’s as tense as he is- he can feel it coming off her in waves. His jaw tenses as she corrects herself- “He’d have laughed. Challenged you to a Pogue ten right on the beach.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The silence that follows is almost unbearable. He opens his eyes, and she’s looking at him cautiously, waiting for an outburst, hands falling back down onto her lap._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She’s waiting for an outburst, because she knows it might happen. The first day after John B and Sarah took The Phantom, back when Pope was still with them and they were all together, huddled up in the chateau holding onto each other and trying not to break in half; that was when JJ snapped. Kiara was the one talking. JJ doesn’t remember what it was about. He only remembers hearing her correct herself- “John B _would _have-” and suddenly the table was upturned and half the furniture smashed to pieces and he was on the floor amidst it all, sobbing over and over, “He’s not dead, he’s not dead, Kiara, he’s not fucking dead, don’t talk about him like he’s _dead _, cause he’s fucking not!”_____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He remembers how she tried to go to him, how Pope had to hold her back because of the look in JJ’s eyes. He’d scared them, real fucking bad, and he can tell Kiara’s waiting for it to happen again on the beach. There’s no furniture for him to destroy, only sand, but it’s _him _, for god’s sake, who knows what he’s capable of.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________JJ takes Kiara’s hand, and her face softens a little._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“You good?” She asks tentatively. JJ nods._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Yeah.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He’s not really good; they both know that. But it satisfies her, and she leans her head back on his shoulder, looking out towards the ocean._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’m sorry if I went too far, J. But I just wanna help you. And with Pope- with Pope gone, we’re gonna need to help each other more than ever.” Her gaze is fixated on the horizon, and JJ looks at her as the wind sends her hair fluttering across her face. She looks beautiful. Not just hot- god, Kiara’s _always _been hot. But there’s something else. JJ has to look carefully, because it’s hard to see under all the sadness. But it’s there.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________He wonders why he never noticed it before._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Kiara shoves her feet into the sand, wiggling her toes. “I’ll make you a deal.” She says._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“That depends what it is, Kie.” JJ manages a smirk. “If it involves sleeping together then that’s completely off the cards. No Pogue on Pogue mackin’, right? Though it doesn’t seem to matter ‘cause you totally macked two of us, when you- ow!” He winces as Kiara aims a slap right on his forarm. “Hey! You’re not allowed to hit me, I’m severely hungover right now. _And _I’m volatile. I could blow up at any time, you know. It’s not sensible to provoke volatile substances Kie.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Oh my god, shut the fuck up, will you?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I thought you said you wanted me to talk?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Kiara groans. “Jesus.” She rubs a hand over her face, and looks at JJ again. “Fine, I won’t make you talk. But can you at least not drink for one night?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________JJ doesn’t know. He’s only been awake for half an hour and already he wants a beer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Kiara frowns at his silence; she knows what he’s thinking, and for some reason it embarrasses him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Don’t be embarrassed, JJ.” He looks up at her in amazement, but she’s already standing up, brushing the sand from her shorts and heading down to the end of the beach with her mat. “ I know it’s hard.” She calls back, “but it’s gonna be okay. You’ll try green tea and you’ll never look back.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________JJ laughs, and this time it feels a little bit more real._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Fuck no. I’d rather drink my own piss than green tea!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Kiara makes it for him that night._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________If he’s being honest, he actually kinda likes it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	2. A house on the beach and a dog called Marley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! this chapter was super cool to write just cause i love the idea of jj and kie being so intimate but not being in an actual relationship. obviously the romantic stuff will come later (season 2/3 writers, please take pity on us) but for now i just like to write them being okay with not addressing it, you know?
> 
> hope you enjoy it. <3
> 
> tw- mentioned alcohol abuse. read with caution. xx

-JJ-

It’s dark when JJ wakes up, and for a moment he forgets where he is. There are no lights on in the Chateau, and it takes him a few seconds to realise that it’s probably because Kiara is asleep in there- he knows she’s in there, because he can’t feel her pressed against his side like she was when he fell asleep, swinging gently in the hammock and trying to concentrate on anything but the horrible feeling that had been gnawing at him all day, the well-known feeling JJ recognises as ‘really fucking needing a drink.’ He hadn’t had one all day, only because Kiara didn’t want him to, and he hadn’t had one that night either- well, only one beer, which he tried to convince her didn’t count. He’d barely drunk in the whole day, and he can feel it coming back to bite him in the ass. 

It sort of scares him, a little bit. The fact that now he can’t even go through one day without wanting something more than a few beers and a badly rolled joint. He knows it scares Kiara too, although she doesn’t show it. He knows she’s only trying to help him by making him go pretty much cold turkey on the whole thing- maybe help herself, in a way- and he knows he should be trying harder, but it’s nights like these when he wakes up in the hammock- alone- and it’s so dark when he looks up at the sky he can’t tell whether his eyes are open or closed and he remembers how his best friend is dead and the other won’t see him and he’s ending up exactly like his dad and everything’s turning to shit and he can’t stop it from happening.

That’s when he needs a drink.

The house is quiet, and JJ winces at the creaking of the door as he pushes it open slightly and tiptoes across past Kiara, sprawled out fast asleep on the pull out, and steps into the kitchen, opening the cupboard door with a sharp intake of breath. 

“Fuck.” JJ whispers a string of curses through his teeth, “-fuck fuck fuck, shit!” He has to resist the urge to slam the cupboard door closed in frustration. Of course Kiara’s taken the vodka away. Stashed it in a hole in the ground somewhere far away from the chateau, probably. God, he hates that she’s so intuitive- that she knew exactly what he would do even before he did it. He knows she’s just trying to make it better for him, but standing in the kitchen in the middle of the night with the overwhelming feeling of wanting to down half a bottle in one go, he just wants to scream. Upturn the table again and smash everything in sight; dig up the entire beach just to find wherever she’s hidden the fucking thing.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t, because deep down he knows it will fuck everything up even more. He knows it will ruin whatever’s between them- and JJ has tried, but he still can’t figure out what the hell is going on with that- so he doesn’t do anything. Instead, he stumbles- literally stumbles, because for some reason his brain is so clouded and his legs can’t remember how to walk themselves- into the living room and drops down onto his knees in front of the pull out. 

“Kie?” JJ whispers into the silence. “You awake?”

There’s no answer; only Kiara’s soft breathing, even and slow compared to JJ’s, which he notices has turned vaguely hysterical. JJ blows out a breath, and realises with embarrassment how shaky it is. His hands are shaking, too, so he takes a hold of Kiara’s quilt and squeezes it between his fists to try and stop it.

“Kie.” He says a little louder. Still, there’s no answer, and JJ squeezes his eyes shut, bowing his head down onto his hands. They’re still shaking, so he tries counting down from ten in Spanish in his head, something stupid he used to do to calm himself down when he was younger and his dad was getting a little too drunk for his liking. He’s just gotten down to _cinco _when the mattress underneath his hands shifts slightly and Kiara sits up, propping herself up on an elbow.__

__“Why are you on the floor?” Her voice is rough and thick with sleep, and it’s hard for JJ to hear her over the loud rush of his heartbeat in his ears, and his breathing, which is definitely not doing what it’s supposed to. But he knows what she means, and quickly pulls himself off the floor and over the top of her, crawling over until he’s on the other side with his back to her. Kiara shifts towards him and snakes her arm tightly around his middle._ _

__“You wanna talk about something?” she asks into his shoulder. “Like, as a distraction?”_ _

__JJ nods. He can feel himself starting to really panic. “Fuck, Kie, I can’t do this.” His voice trembles. “It’s too fucking hard, I can’t do it.”_ _

__“Shh.” Her breath is warm against the back of his neck. “You can, just don’t think about it. Listen to me, okay, I’m gonna tell you…” she pauses, and JJ can feel himself start to relax as her legs intertwines with his, hand moving gently to uncurl his hands out of fists and link their fingers together. “-I’m gonna tell you a story, okay? I’m gonna tell it to you and you’ve gotta just concentrate on my voice, yeah?”_ _

__“Yeah.” JJ can’t even manage a quip or a sarcastic comment, and that’s when he knows he’s in real fucking deep. He takes a breath and wriggles further down into the covers, breathing in the faint scent of jasmine and old wood and sea salt that’s unmistakably Kiara as she begins to talk._ _

__“Okay. So, once upon a time…”_ _

__“That’s how you’re gonna start it?” JJ whispers incredulously. “Once upon a time? Are you serious?”_ _

__“Shut up, you idiot, just listen to me. Once upon a time, there was a boy called JJ, and he lived in a big house near the beach with his dog… wait, do you want a dog?”_ _

__JJ feels himself smile, despite the fact that his heart is still hammering furiously at his ribcage. He takes a deep breath, then another. “I don’t give a shit, Kie, it’s your story.”_ _

__“Okay, but do you want a dog though? I can’t have a dog in this if you don’t want one.” Kiara moves again- this time, so she’s pressed right up against JJ’s back. They’re in a tangled mess of limbs and bedsheets, and JJ wonders what they would do if Pope were to walk in right then and turn the light on. JJ realises with some confusion that if Pope did walk in, he wouldn’t give two fucks. Maybe Kiara would, but he knows he probably wouldn’t even try to move._ _

__He knows that Kie kissed Pope- he _saw _Kie kiss him, but also he knows for a fact that his two best friends aren’t on speaking terms and haven’t been since their fight outside the chateau that day. He wants to ask Kiara about it, but he figures it’s not the right time. He wants to ask her about a lot of things, actually; like how she’s suddenly so okay with sleeping next to him like this. They’ve slept in the same bed before, sure, but never like this.___ _

____He wants to ask her, he really does. But there’s something stopping him, and although JJ has no idea what that is, he respects it. He’s trying really hard not to fuck up, and he knows if he asks her it will fuck things up completely._ _ _ _

____“I’ll have a dog, sure.” He says, when he realises Kiara is waiting for him to reply. She exhales slowly against his neck, and a shiver rolls down his spine._ _ _ _

____“Okay, so, the boy called JJ lives on this house on the beach with his dog, and he has a job at Kiara’s parents’ restaurant waiting tables and cooking crabs and shit, right? And he’s working there ‘cause he’s graduated high school and now he’s takin’ out a year to save up for college, so he can study marine biology or learn to be a surf instructor or somethin’…”_ _ _ _

____JJ closes his eyes and feels his shoulders relax into the pillow. His grip on Kiara’s hand loosens a little, but he doesn’t let it go._ _ _ _

____“…so every morning he gets up and takes his dog out to the sea to watch him surf, but he doesn’t surf alone ‘cause he’s got his best friends who come out surfing with him. There’s Pope, but right now he’s at college studying… I don’t know, whatever, something with dead bodies ‘cause he’s gross and really fucking smart, and there’s Kiara, who works with JJ at her parents place ‘cause she’s taking a year out so she can raise some money for charity and maybe travel somewhere in the summer, like Antarctica …”_ _ _ _

____…JJ?” Kiara nudges his shoulder with her chin, and he realises she’s not been talking for a while._ _ _ _

____“I’m awake.” He mumbles sleepily, “-keep goin’, I wanna hear the rest of the story. What’s my dog’s name?”_ _ _ _

____“Hmm.” Kiara pauses. “Marley.”_ _ _ _

____“Marley? Jesus, Kie, he might as well be _your _dog if you’re gonna call him Marley.”___ _ _ _

______“Yeah, well, he’s technically my dog, too, ‘cause we share. It’s like what divorced parents do with their kids, you know.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh, wow. We share the house too?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He doesn’t mean to say it, but it comes out anyway. For a brief moment, JJ swears he can feel Kiara’s breathing hitch against his back, and he starts to freak out a bit since he’s kind of relying on matching her breath so he doesn’t start hyperventilating, but soon it’s back to normal and he can’t tell whether it really happened or if he was just imagining it._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yeah, I stay at yours all the time, dumbass. It’s like, the coolest place on earth. You’ve got three surfboards and a hammock in the tree outside.” He also doesn’t know if he’s imagining the slight edge that seems to have worked itself into Kiara’s voice, either, or the way she pauses a little bit more in between sentences; but she carries on the story anyway, and soon JJ forgets it even happened._ _ _ _ _ _

______“…we stay at your house, and sometimes we go to help Hayward ‘cause he’s getting kind of sad with Pope being gone, so we help him fish and take boxes and shit like that. And we take Marley for walks on the beach, and take the van places, and everything’s really fucking cool, and we only drink when we feel like it, not cause we need it. Does that sound good?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______JJ only hears half of what she says, but he gives a sluggish ‘Mm-hmm” anyway. He likes the part about only drinking when they feel like it._ _ _ _ _ _

______“M’kay.” Kiara sighs. “Cool.” It’s silent for a few moments, and JJ is almost asleep when she says, in a quiet, nervous whisper, “I think I fucked it up with Pope.” It’s not what he’s expecting to hear, and to be honest he’s not sure he’s in a particularly good state of mind to give her a sensible reply- especially now when he’s barely conscious. So instead, he gives her hand a gentle squeeze._ _ _ _ _ _

______“We’ll figure it out.” He murmurs. “We’ll talk to him.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’ve tried, JJ, I really have. I got my phone fixed, but he still won’t answer my messages. I think I’ve hurt him real bad, and now I don’t know how to make it okay again.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______JJ wants to ask why she thinks she hurt him- she _kissed _him, for god’s sake, that’s not hurting him, that’s the complete opposite. But he doesn’t. It feels wrong to be talking about Pope, for some reason.___ _ _ _ _ _

________“You should just get with a girl, Kie. It’d be so much easier ‘n you wouldn’t have to deal with Pope anymore. Just tell him you’re a lesbian or whatever n’ then he’ll _have _to get the hell away from you.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yeah, well, I’ve been with a girl once, and it’s definitely _not _easier, trust me.” Kiara says. There’s an edge to her voice again, tinged with exhaustion and anxiety and maybe a little bit of fear, but JJ is too tired to think about it much.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Oh?” He says, “ Was she hot?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I’m being serious, you idiot.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Yeah, I know. So am I. It’s cool if you like girls Kie, honestly. But they gotta be hot, otherwise what’s the point, you know?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Kiara snorts. “God, JJ,” she says, and he feels her shaking her head. “You’re so predictable.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Yeah, well, you know me.” JJ inhales deeply, and the smell of salt and jasmine wafts through the air again. He thinks it’s possibly the nicest thing he’s ever smelt in his life. Even better than weed, if he’s being honest. He blows out a breath, tracing his foot against the underside of Kiara’s. “I like girls, too you know. If we’re playing the honesty game. I’ve been waiting so long to tell you that, honestly, it’s been torture keeping it a secret all these years.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Fuck off.” Kiara mumbles. JJ knows she’s smiling behind him. “You’re such a dick.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“You know it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________It’s quiet after that. JJ can feel himself slip slowly away into sleep; but instead of feeling guilty like he’s done so many times before- passing out in the hammock or on the couch with a half empty vodka bottle by his side with the horrible, gut wrenching feeling that he’s doing something terribly wrong like his father did- now, he feels okay. Not fine- fuck no, he’s definitely not fine- but okay. It doesn’t feel like the world is ending, and he’s glad of that at least._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________It doesn’t take JJ long to fall asleep, and when he wakes up almost ten hours later, Kiara is still pressed up against him with her arm slung over his waist, legs and fingers tangled together like they were the night before, her face pressed against his shoulder, breathing slowly against his neck. He sighs heavily, blinking his eyes open- noticing, for the first time in a while, the feeling of waking up without needing to throw up or having a splitting headache so bad you want to claw your own eyes out. He’s so focused on this feeling, it takes him a second to notice the figure standing in the middle of the Chateau._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Pope?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops sorry for the cliffhanger i couldn't resist. also yay for my actual bby Pope cause he really does deserve to be in this story I just couldn't leave him out!!!
> 
> (p.s i got the idea of counting down in Spanish when ur stressed from 'The Goldfinch' by Donna Tartt I know it's super random but i kinda love that book so it had to be in here lol)
> 
> stay safe everyone xxx


	3. You're nothing like your dad, I promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!
> 
> I haven't got much to say, but I hope u enjoy the chapter. thank u for the love. <3
> 
> p.s here is a link to some ways you can help BLM.  
> https://www.itsnicethat.com/news/resources-supporting-black-lives-matter-movement-creative-industry-010620
> 
> tw- mentioned/implied physical abuse. read w caution :(

-Kiara-

Kiara wakes up to the sound of something smashing against the kitchen sideboard. It’s a distinct, horribly loud crash that jerks her out of the deep sleep she’s been in for the past nine hours and makes her shoot up from the pull-out, blinking furiously. As she wriggles her way out of the tangle of sheets that have somehow wrapped themselves around her legs- noticing, with a strange feeling of disappointment, the absence of a particular blonde haired boy who she had been clinging onto for the entire night, wrapped up in his musky scent of beer and smoke- she swears loudly. There’s no doubt that it’s JJ- probably having another meltdown because he can’t find the vodka again, this time with less calmness and more furniture involved. Another crash comes from the kitchen, and Kiara almost slips over as she scrambles off the mattress and through the living room, bolting through the open door. 

“Oh, shit.” It’s not quite what she expected to see- JJ, chest heaving up and down as he holds Pope in some sort of a headlock, half- dragging him across the room and cursing loudly. Kiara can see Pope struggling, but she knows he’s not trying as hard as he could. She knows he’s not fighting back, because after the hot tub, he and Kiara decided they could never bring themselves to hurt JJ, even if he did ever try to beat the shit out of them. 

“JJ, what the fuck?” Kiara can think of nothing else to say- she’s not been particularly good with words these past few weeks- but it doesn’t seem to matter, because JJ doesn’t hear her. She’s just about to run over and try to separate the two when he lets go of Pope, throwing him to the side where he rams into the table and stumbles, grabbing onto a chair to stop himself from falling. Kiara runs over and gives Pope her hand, and he takes it almost hesitantly, gaze not quite meeting her eyes. 

“Thanks.” He mumbles, straightening himself up. His eyes flicker to hers again, and this time it’s Kiara who looks away; eyes cast downward, chewing nervously on her bottom lip, a hot blush creeping up her cheeks. 

She remembers how they left off, that day in the chateau- screaming awful things at each other; Pope yelling at her to make up her goddamn mind because _’I’m not just going to sit here and wait for you if you’re obviously not interested, I mean, I’ve got feelings, Kiara, you’re just messing with them!’_ She remembers how she laughed hysterically through her tears, _’are you fucking serious? Our friends are dead, Pope, and you’re bringing this up now?? What the hell is wrong with you?’_ She remembers she’s still mad at him for leaving- for fucking off and leaving her sobbing on the floor and JJ staying up until four drinking anything he could find- and lets go of his hand fast, dropping it like something that’s just burnt her.

She can tell by the way Pope’s jaw clenches that he knows what she’s thinking- but she doesn’t have chance to think about it herself, because JJ says it for her. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Pope?” JJ stands with his hands braced over his head, breathing heavily, fisting his hair tightly between his knuckles. Kiara has to fight the urge to go over and pull his hands back to his sides. “You fucking left, dude! And now you just walk in here like nothing even happened?”

“JJ, I’m sorry, I-”

JJ cuts Pope off with an exasperated, breathy laugh. “You’re sorry?” He says incredulously. “You’re fucking sorry? Jesus-” His breath hitches, catching in his throat, and he kicks the table leg hard, hands still pulling at his hair like he’s trying to rip it out. “We’re here fucking falling apart, and you couldn’t even send us a message? One message, Pope, that’s all you had to do! But you didn’t, did you? You just ran away and hid like a fucking coward-”

Pope makes a lunge for JJ, but Kiara steps in front, blocking his way with her arm, and glares at him. “Don’t.” She growls under her breath. “Just don’t.”

She doesn’t know why she’s stopping him; it was JJ who started the whole fight, undoubtedly- she should just let them have it out, leave them to it and come back later to help patch up the broken fingers and bruised ribs. But she’s pissed at Pope, and she’s mad at herself for letting it get this far, and there’s no way in hell she’s going to let JJ get hurt like his dad hurt him. So she stays in front of Pope and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Stay here.” She says quietly. “I’ll talk to you in a minute.”

It’s not meant to come out as cold as it does- god, she doesn’t want to hurt Pope any more than she has done, and she _knows_ she’s hurt him, almost as much as he’s hurt her- but even so, her voice is icy and sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. She doesn’t want to see Pope’s face, so she turns around quickly and drags JJ out of the room by his arm, slamming the kitchen door shut and leaving Pope on the other side. 

“Kiara, what the fuck?” It’s JJ’s turn to think of nothing else to say. Kiara watches as he paces the living room, hands releasing from his hair and curling into fists at his sides. She wants to go to him, but if she’s being honest, she’s kind of scared. She knows if she does nothing, it’ll get worse- but she knows that if she so much as touches him when he doesn’t want her to, he’ll go insane on her. 

She remembers how Pope had held her off, back when JJ had flipped the table over and was screaming about how John B wasn’t dead. She remembers, but then she realises that Pope isn’t there, that there’s no one to stop her this time. 

“JJ, look at me.” Kiara takes a step forward and reaches for JJ’s hands, and he flinches, reeling backwards until the back of his knees hit the pull-out. His eyes are wild and unfocused, chest heaving up and down as he gasps breathlessly.

“Aren’t you mad at him?” JJ asks her. His face is covered with a sheen of sweat. “After all he said to you? I don’t even know what he said to you, actually, but I know it was bad, Kie, and now he just turns up after being gone for ages and all his says is _sorry?_ That’s bullshit, I don’t- I don’t understand how he could just-”

Kiara cuts him off as she pulls him into a hug, and to her surprise he doesn’t shove her away like she’s expecting him to. He tenses at first, hands hanging awkwardly by his sides, but after a moment it’s like someone takes all of the energy out of him, and he slumps against her, hands wrapping around her back. Kiara feels his legs buckle, and he drops onto the pull-out, taking her with him. It takes her a while to realise she’s practically sitting on his knees, legs swung over to one side, hands wrapped around his neck- but she quickly distracts herself with Pope, instead, so she doesn’t have to think about it.

“Of course I’m mad at him, he’s an asshole.” She says quietly, and JJ gives a watery laugh into her shoulder. “But he’s obviously trying to apologise. I think we should give it to him, I mean, we’re the ones saying we should all stick together, right? And I said some shit to him, so I should apologise too. He deserves that, at least.”

“He looked so fucking confused.” JJ’s voice is thick, and Kiara can tell he’s trying not to cry. “I woke up and he was just stood in the middle of the room, _staring_ , and I think he was going to say something but I just lost my shit, Kie. I mean, the guy’s been gone for fucking ages, and he just shows up out of nowhere looking like a goddamn lost puppy. I just fucking lost it.”

Kiara is quiet for a moment. “But you were in the kitchen when I found you.”

“Yeah, that’s cause I dragged him in there. Thought you wouldn’t appreciate us beating the hell out of each other right in front of you.”

“Oh, how considerate of you.” She realises they’ve gone straight back into how they usually act when they’re trying to talk about something serious; joking around, throwing quips at one another in a desperate attempt to make everything seem normal again. It’s stupid, Kiara knows that, but it helps. Sort of.

JJ’s head presses into the crook of her neck, and she feels the exhale of air on her skin as he breathes out, slowly, making her shiver. She thinks about getting up and going to Pope- after all, she told him she’d only be a minute. But the way JJ is holding onto her, and the way he’s breathing in and out with his arm wrapped tightly around her middle, and the fact that the only thing that can ground him even a tiny bit is her- it makes her stay just a little bit longer. 

“You should go talk to him.” After a while, JJ lifts his head up and sniffs. “He’s probably waiting for you.”

“Aren’t you coming?” Kiara asks, a hint of sadness in her voice. She can’t help but feel disappointed at the thought of JJ leaving, even for a little bit. She’s sure it’s just down to the fact that they’ve been spending practically all of their time together, but it freaks her out anyway- so she gets off his knees quickly, straightening out her shorts and combing out her hair that she realises JJ had a hand running through.

“Nah.” JJ stands up, running a hand through his own dishevelled hair. “I just nearly beat the guy up. He’s not gonna want to see me right now, okay, trust me. And besides, I think you guys gotta sort some shit out, haven’t you?”

They have. 

“Where are you gonna go?” Kiara asks, and JJ gives her a lopsided smile that doesn’t quite reach is eyes. 

“Scared I’m gonna go find your buried vodka, huh?” 

“I’m not scared.” Kiara says.

She’s lying.

She is scared. Very scared. Fucking terrified, actually. She’s been trying not to let JJ know, how scared she really is, because she knows that if he finds out, he’ll start blaming it all on himself. She can practically hear him say it. ‘ _I’m just like my dad, Kiara. A fucking deadbeat drunk who doesn’t give a shit about anyone and everyone’s scared of him ‘cause they think he’s gonna beat the hell out of them all the time. I’m just like him.’_

JJ’s nose wrinkles, and she can tell straight away he knows she’s bullshitting. He takes a step back, almost as if he’s worried she’ll run away if he doesn’t back off. His eyes are cast downward, a slight blush colouring his cheekbones, and Kiara watches as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, hands stuffed into his pockets. She swallows the painful lump in her throat and stands there, fiddling with the loose threads on the bottom of her shorts. 

“Promise me you won’t go looking for it?” She says. The corner of JJ’s mouth curves upwards, but he keeps his eyes on the floor.

“Promise. You owe me at least one beer though. And a joint, for when I get back.”

“Some of that strong shit?”

“Hell yeah. Think we’re gonna need it.” 

He’s gotten halfway to the back porch when Kiara runs over, and there’s a split second where she’s stood looking up at him, not touching but close enough that she can feel the warmth of his breath on her face. Still, he won’t meet her gaze; his head droops down, eyes flickering to anywhere but her own. She reaches out and tilts his chin up so he’s looking at her. 

“Promise me you won’t go to your dads.” 

JJ’s jaw clenches for a second, though it’s obvious he’s trying to stay calm. “Why would I do that?” he asks. Right now, Kiara can think of so many reasons. 

You’re mad at Pope for leaving. You’re mad at him for hurting me. You’re mad because you want a drink and I’m not letting you have one. You’re pissed at your dad for being a shitty person, and you’re pissed at John B for being dead and leaving you in a mess. You’re angry, and you blame yourself, and you might as well go back to your dads and let him hit you because then at least it will distract you from whatever the fuck’s going on with all of us. 

But she doesn’t say any of this. She just pulls him into a quick hug, releasing it just as fast and practically pushing him out of the back door. 

“Be safe.” She says. JJ turns around, already halfway towards his bike. 

“I’ll be _so_ safe.” He calls back, and Kiara can’t help but smile. She flips him off and slams the door as the sound of the roaring of the bike slowly fades into the distance. As soon as the door shuts, she takes out her phone from the back pocket of her shorts and starts typing.

 **Kiara [12:04] I’m scared.** she writes, **but I’m not scared of u.**

And then, after a pause, **Kiara [12:05] you’re nothing like your dad. i promise.**

Then, she takes a deep breath and opens the door to the kitchen, where Pope is waiting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll be sO safe. 
> 
> (p.s it's JJ, so he probably won't, let's be honest.)


	4. When are you coming home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw- mentioned/implied physical abuse, alcohol abuse, drug use.
> 
> read with caution ^ xxxx
> 
> this one was hard to write for some reason lol i hope u like it <3

-Kiara-

Six hours and twenty seven minutes later, after a lengthy conversation, two cans of beer, six games of darts an about a thousand apologies from both her and Pope, Kiara gets a message from JJ.

She’s sitting on the porch with Pope when the message comes through, finishing the packet ramen she found at the back of John B’s cupboard and raising her eyebrows incredulously at the way Pope tries to roll a joint; hands unsteady, dropping half the weed out of the paper and cursing under his breath as it falls onto his bare feet. Her phone buzzes once, then again, and by the time she’s fished it out from down the side of the couch cushion, there’s about ten of them flashed up on her lock screen.

 **JJ [6:32]** hey kie u killed pope yet???  
**JJ [6:32]** hope u sorted ur shit out  
**JJ [6:32]** tell him im sorry for being an asshole  
**JJ [6:33]** also sorry for nearly smashing his head in  
**JJ [6:33]** will come back 2 the chateau tonight  
**JJ [6:33]** save me a joint or else both ur heads r getting smashed in and i mean it

“Is that JJ?” Pope peers over Kiara’s shoulder, and she nods, watching carefully as his eyes flicker over the messages, mouth drawn into a tight line of concentration. 

“You think he’s drunk?”

Pope frowns, turning back to the joint that’s balanced carefully on his knee. “I don’t think he’d be able to type out a full sentence if he were drunk, Kie. There would be _way_ less coherency. And less actual real words. Plus, he spelt the word ‘chateau’ correctly, so he’s got to be concentrating pretty hard.”

“Hmm.” Kiara knows it’s true- he’s definitely not drunk, otherwise the text messages would have been a mix of numbers and letters and possibly some foreign words too, depending on what kind of alcohol he’d had. But the coherency of the messages and Pope’s reassurance doesn’t make her feel any better, and she types out a reply with the same uneasy feeling she’s had all day while she’s been sat with Pope, waiting for JJ to come back. A kind of sick feeling, stirring uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach; churning and swirling and making her head spin like she’s up really high in the air. 

**Kiara [6:35]** Pope & I all good. We talked a lot. He wants to talk to you. come back soon. 

After a few seconds, when she’s sure Pope is distracted with scrambling around for a lighter, she sends another. 

**Kiara [6:35]** hope you’re okay. i missed you today. 

She’s not sure why she hides it from Pope. It’s not like it’s anything personal, telling JJ that she missed him. A few hours earlier, when he had just left and she had gone into the kitchen, she’d told Pope she had missed him while he’d been away. Well, after she’d screamed at him for a full twenty minutes about how fucking pissed she was at him, of course. But she’d told him she missed him, because it was true. She’d missed being around him; listening to him ramble on about scholarships and curfew and dead bodies and all that shit. She’s glad he came back, and she’s glad they talked about it, because she missed him like crazy and now that he’s back everything feels slightly more normal.

So, she missed Pope, and she misses JJ. It’s exactly the same thing. Except, it’s not, and Kiara knows it. She thinks about it every day, if she’s being honest- and it’s kind of starting to freak her out.

JJ replies a moment later. The first message is normal enough, although for a second her heart jumps in her chest and she has to swallow down the weird thrill she gets when she reads it.

 **JJ [6:35]** i missed u 2 K. 

The second one, though, takes her by surprise, and Kiara squints at the screen, trying to figure out if she’s reading it right.

 **JJ [6:35]** think my hand is broken lol

“What the fuck?” She says out loud, forgetting for a moment that she’s just sent JJ a message she doesn’t want Pope to see. He frowns in question as he hands her the joint, peering over to look at the screen she’s holding out.

“You think he went to see his dad?”

Kiara winces at the words. _His dad._ That son a bitch doesn’t deserve to be called a dad, not after everything he’s done, and she knows it. She regrets every time she’s ever referred to him as JJ’s dad, to be honest- even that stupid text message she sent to him earlier. Pope knows it too, and she can tell by the way his face goes dark, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks, shifting uncomfortably as he flicks the lighter on, and off, and on again.

“Actually,” He says quietly, eyes flickering downwards towards the floor, “if he went to his dads, he’d probably have way worse than a broken hand. So I think he’s fine.”

“Shit.” Kiara puts the phone down and leans forward with the joint hanging out of her mouth, and he holds the lighter up to her face, illuminating it briefly in a glow of red and orange before he clicks the lighter shut. She inhales slowly, and breathes out a puff of smoke, swallowing the lump in her throat and blinking her eyes so she doesn’t do something stupid, like cry.

“I’ll be so fucking mad if he’s gone there.” She says, and her voice breaks a little. She notices Pope give her a sideways glance, and pretends not to notice. “He promised me he wouldn’t.” 

Pope narrows his eyes at her. “JJ does a lot of stuff he promises not to do, Kie, you know that. He’s an independent variable, remember?”

An independent variable. Right. Of course she knows. She knows, but she was hoping that maybe, _just once,_ he would listen to her and not do something fucking stupid to get himself hurt just because he can’t deal with his goddamn feelings. But it’s JJ, and Kiara doesn’t know why she expected him to do any different. 

“ _Fuck_.” Her chest shudders, and she takes another long drag, feeling her body relax but not as much as she hoped it would. “Shit, Pope. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I should be doing something and not just hiding the fucking vodka, which he’s probably gonna find, by the way, cause it’s literally not even far away. I should be- _we_ should be doing something, and instead we’re just sitting here smoking weed, like, what the fuck kind of friends are we?”

Pope takes the joint from her hand and inhales. It reminds Kiara of Sarah Cameron- the way he coughs and splutters after his first drag, choking on the smoke and pretending not to be. When he’s done it a few more times, he hands the joint back to her, wincing. 

“You don’t want it?” Kiara asks. Pope shakes his head and swallows, his face crinkling up in disgust. 

“Nah. Can’t really stand it, to be honest. Not JJ’s hard stuff, anyway.” 

“Oh.” Kiara pauses for a moment. The lump in her throat is still there, and she has to swallow hard to get it to go away. Pope looks at her, and she turns to meet his gaze, her back leaning heavily against the couch.

“This is fucked, Pope.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

“No, like, really fucked. Everything is fucked.”

“I know, Kie.” He reaches out to touch her hand, probably to try to comfort her, but all it does is make her flinch. It’s stupid, because Kiara knows he’s not trying to _do_ anything, but for some reason the contact freaks her out and she pulls back slightly, shrinking away from his touch. Pope’s jaw clenches, and he takes his hand back to his side. 

“Sorry.” he says quietly. Kiara feels tears well up in her eyes again. 

“Shut up.” She sighs out, “Don’t be sorry, _I’m_ sorry, that was stupid. I don’t know why I did that.” And then, because she feels terrible and the look in Pope’s eyes is making her want to cry, she shuffles forwards and puts her arms around him, squeezing tightly with one hand and holding the joint in the air with the other. It only lasts for a few seconds, but when she pulls away he’s smiling a little, and then she doesn’t feel as bad. 

“You should text him back.” He says, nodding towards the phone. “See when he’s coming home.”

Kiara stares at the screen. Then, she types a few more messages, biting her lip so hard it starts to bleed. 

**Kiara [6:38]** why is your hand broken??? how are you typing this??  
**Kiara [6:38]** also pope says when are you coming home  
**Kiara [6:38]** i’ve got bandages if you need them  
**Kiara [6:38]** don’t be long i’ve almost finished this joint x

She types the kiss out at the end before she can even think about- most likely out of habit from texting her parents, or possibly from the time in her kook year when she texted Sarah non-stop and added about a thousand kisses to the end of each message. Pressing the backspace repeatedly does nothing- it’s already sent- so she takes another drag of her joint and hopes to god he doesn’t notice.

 **JJ [6:39]** i’m typing with my other hand idiot  
**JJ [6:39]** it fucking hurts tell pope he’s gonna have 2 amputate it  
**JJ [6:39]** i can donate my hand 2 his medical research if he wants but its gonna cost

She notices he doesn’t answer the question, about how he managed to get his hand broken in the first place. It’s typical of JJ, skirting around a subject he finds uncomfortable; using humour and acting like an idiot to try and cover up the fact that something is wrong. It’s weird, because up until now, JJ’s been more open with Kiara than he’s ever been in his whole life. She guesses it’s probably to do with Pope, now that he’s back and it’s not just the two of them anymore. 

She knows they can’t just go around acting like they have been doing. Constantly touching, in some way or another. Sharing the pull-out, wrapped around each other in a tangle of sheets and arms and legs, Kiara telling JJ stories so he can sleep and not raid the cupboard for alcohol. They can’t do that anymore because Pope is back and even though she told him she was confused- that the kiss between them was fast and unplanned and maybe a little bit stupid on her part- she knows Pope is still expecting something from her. 

“So you didn’t mean it? When you kissed me?” She thinks about it now; their conversation earlier that day, his eyes on the floor with that awful lost-puppy-on-the-street expression that JJ was talking about. “Because, it’s fine if you didn’t, alright, but I just need to know.”

“I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“But you and JJ, you were sleeping-”

“Look, Pope, I don’t really wanna talk about it right now, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay, I get it. I’m sorry. I just- I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Back in reality, after she’s been staring at the wall for a good fifteen minutes thinking about John B and Sarah and feeling more and more like she might burst into tears, Pope snaps her out of her thoughts. 

“Should we hide the beer too?” He asks. In the distance, she can hear the faint sound of a bike’s engine revving and spluttering as it gets closer and closer to the chateau, and the sick feeling in her stomach slowly starts to disappear.

“Nope.” She says, standing up and shaking out her sore limbs. “I promised him at least two, and a joint. It’s either that or he goes mental and smashes the table to pieces.”

“And our heads.”

“Yeah, and our heads.”

When they get outside, JJ’s only just got there, and Kiara can’t help herself from staring as he makes his way towards them, scanning every part of his body and making sure he’s still intact. Apart from his hand, purple and bruised and covered with a scratch that looks as if it’s bled a little, there doesn’t seem to be anything else. 

JJ stops right in front of her, and his eyes flicker to Pope, who stands further back, half hidden behind her. He doesn’t say anything, just takes the joint from Kiara’s hand and inhales deeply, blowing out smoke to the side so it doesn’t hit her in the face. When he’s taken a few more drags, he hands it back to her, and she can tell by the look on his face that there’s lots he wants to talk about, but very little that he’ll actually be able to say.

“Go talk to him.” She whispers. JJ hesitates for a second, and then nods, moving towards Pope and brushing his shoulder against hers as he passes. Kiara feels the shiver roll down her spine as he does so, almost like electricity, and watches as goose bumps rise to the surface of her skin.

“Thank you.” He mutters in her ear, before making his way up the steps and into the chateau with Pope. She doesn’t know exactly what he’s saying thank you for, but it doesn’t seem to bother him, so she puts it out of her mind and follows him inside.

Twenty minutes later, JJ comes into the bathroom while she’s brushing her teeth, a freshly rolled joint hanging out of his mouth and a can of beer pressed against his knuckles. He raises an eyebrow, leaning heavily against the sink. 

“It’s a little early for bedtime, honey.” He smirks, and Kiara whacks him lightly on the arm. She spits into the sink and wipes her mouth, and when she’s finished he’s looking at her intently.

“My mouth tasted like garbage.” She says, and it’s true- the result of way too much weed and a few beers mixed in with it. JJ smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and Kiara has to resist the urge to do something weird like grab his face or run her hands through his hair. Not that it matters, anyway. They’ve been doing stuff like that for two weeks straight. But now that Pope is back, Kiara can’t help but feel like she needs to tone it down a little, and she’s guessing JJ does too, by the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, putting the beer can down by the sink and fiddling with the rolled up paper between his fingers, gaze not quite meeting hers. 

“You talk to Pope?” she asks, just to break the awkward silence that has started to hang between them. JJ nods, wincing in pain as he flexes his swollen hand.

“Yeah, we’re cool. I don’t know why I got so pissed, to be honest, I mean he was just- hey, what are you-” He stops when Kiara takes his hand and begins to wind the bandages she’s just found in the first aid kid, stashed behind the sink, around his knuckles.

“I thought you were kidding.” He says, “about the bandages.”

“Why would I be kidding? I’m the pogue mom, remember. It would be a sin if I didn’t have a first aid kit. And, you’d probably all be dead without it, so. ”

It takes a while to get his whole hand wrapped in it, because JJ won’t stop whining and groaning and yelling _‘fucking hell, Kiara!”_ whenever she presses a little too hard. But eventually, it’s done, and they’re all sat in the living room on the pull out listening to one of John B’s old road trip playlists, huddled up together like little kids, swigging from the same bottle of beer and holding onto each other like their lives depend on it- Pope in the middle, JJ and Kiara on either side.

It’s strange, but she misses the contact more than she thought she would- where Pope is sat, she can’t even touch JJ’s foot with her own. She meets his eyes, and almost unconsciously reaches for his good hand, the one without the bandages, right behind Pope's back. He grabs onto it tighter than usual, squeezing it so tightly it starts to hurt. 

She’s about to say something when he starts sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeeet sorry for anyone who wanted a pope and kie reunion, I just felt like this worked better and it was easier to focus mainly on JJ and Kie anyway. hope you enjoyed, thank you for all your lovely comments and support so far. 
> 
> love you pope!!!


	5. There are two sides struggling in you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'no one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.'  
> \- C.S Lewis.
> 
> TW'S - mentions of physical abuse, alcohol abuse, and really shitty parents. read with caution lovelies. x

-JJ-

“What are you looking at?” 

JJ turns his head and shifts slightly on the pull-out, doing his best not to wake Pope, who’s fast asleep with his head slumped against JJ’s shoulder, breathing slowly. Kiara lays stretched out on the other side of him, her hair spread out across the pillow, legs pressed up against him as she hums to the beat of the music, tapping out a rhythm on his stomach with her fingers.

“The sky.” Through the open door of the chateau, he can see the sun just starting to set; oranges and pinks and reds all mixing together in the sky almost like paint on a canvas. He would have gone out to see it- sat in the hammock with a beer or something- but he’s been crying for an hour and pretty much silent for two, and right now he’d rather be where he is, crashed out with his best friends, all huddled together under a thin, worn out quilt of John B’s, listening to Pope’s snores and Kiara’s quiet singing to the music playing from their speaker.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Kiara stops humming along to the Neil Young song that’s just come on- Harvest moon, JJ thinks it’s called. It’s a nice song, slow and easy and almost enough to make the painful tightness in his chest disappear completely. “Kinda like a painting or something.”

He hums a reply, burrowing down further under the quilt and pulling it up near to his chin, careful not to hit Pope right in the face with it, feeling Kiara moves her hand up to find his chest underneath the cover, resting it right where his heartbeat is. It’s slowed down considerably since before, and when he inhales, breathing in her scent of jasmine and sea salt, he feels it slows down even more.

“Feel better?” Kiara asks gently. 

“Yeah. A little.” For once, he’s not lying. Everything was getting too much- _way_ too fucking much. Having to deal with his best friend’s death sober. Not being able to stop thinking of his dad, and how he’s turning into him, and how pretty soon the chateau will probably go up for sale and who knows where the hell he’s going to go. Kiara’s text made him feel better- made him turn the bike around and leave his dad’s house before he could get himself into a situation that would no doubt fuck him up even more than he already was. It didn’t stop him from punching a wall, though, but JJ knows that it was better that than getting thrown into one. Right now, he feels okay. A little bit weird and fucked up and empty, but okay.

Kiara pauses for a moment. “You gonna tell me where you were today?” She says after a while.

JJ huffs out a breath, fingers playing with a strand of her hair. “Will you be pissed if I say no?” 

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, I didn’t go to my dad’s, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“JJ, that’s not an answer. How did you break your hand?”

JJ swears under his breath at how stubborn she’s being, though if he’s being honest, he _was_ kind of expecting it. It’s Kiara, for gods sake, how could he not? “Can we watch a movie?” He blurts out, desperate for a change of subject.

Kiara groans, burying her face into his shoulder. Her voice is muffled as she speaks. “You’re such an idiot, you know that?”

“Yeah, you never fail to remind me, Kie.”

It takes a while to get the movie set up, only because Pope won’t budge and JJ has to practically shove him so he can sit up and climb off the pull-out, and right when they’re sat back down and about to press play on Kiara’s laptop she announces suddenly that _”we can’t watch a movie without green tea, JJ. You’re a convert, now, remember? It’s sacrilege to do it without.”_

_“I don’t know what that word means, but whatever you say.”_

After Kiara’s made some tea- with honey in it this time- they end up watching ‘Ophelia.’ She chooses it because she likes the idea of a movie based on Hamlet that isn’t sexist and actually has a good main character, or so she tells him. JJ’s totally lost on the Hamlet part- he was either too distracted or too high to concentrate in English class before the summer, and he doesn’t know if they even _did_ Hamlet. But it’s got Rey from Star Wars in it, so he agrees embarrassingly fast. 

It’s been about twenty minutes when his phone buzzes in his front pocket, and when he holds it up there’s a message from Kiara, sent a few seconds ago. JJ frowns and looks at her, but her eyes are fixed on the screen and she doesn’t turn her head. 

**Kiara [10:45]** if you don’t wanna talk to me can you do it like this?

He looks up from the phone again, sees Kiara’s reflection in the laptop screen and meets her eyes before the screen’s filled with colour again and her face disappears. He can’t help biting his lip as he types, tasting blood, taking ages to write because of his fucked up hand that stopped hurting a while ago, probably from all the weed in his system.

 **JJ [10:45]** ok  
**JJ [10:45]** punched a wall  
**JJ [10:45]** got mad at john b i miss him too much it hurts

JJ hesitates before he sends the next one, unsure- but something in the way Kiara grabs his free hand and squeezes it tightly underneath the covers makes him do it.

 **JJ [10:46]** was about 2 go 2 dads but then i saw ur text 

**Kiara [10:46]** is that what you were saying thank you for earlier?

 **JJ [10:46]** kind of  
**JJ [10:46]** i meant thx 4 a lot of things K

The next one comes through, but this time JJ doesn’t look up to see if she’s looking at him. They’re both staring at their screens, the movie playing in the background, filling up the silence that would have been incredibly uncomfortable otherwise. 

**Kiara [10:46]** i’m glad you didn’t go. meant what i said.

 **JJ [10:46]** ik  
**JJ [10:46]** glad i’ve got u don’t know what i would’ve done without u 

**Kiara [10:47]** stupid shit probably

 **JJ [10:47]** yh ur right  
**JJ [10:47]** stupid shit

On the screen, the girl from Star Wars says something that JJ only just catches- ‘there are two sides struggling in you. One is baser, one better.’ He has no idea what the word ‘baser’ means, but for some reason it doesn’t matter, because he understands the beginning. 

_Two sides struggling in you._

JJ knows exactly what she means. There’s the side in him that wants to run away. To his dad’s, maybe, or somewhere where he can get so fucked up and drunk and high and not have to deal with Kiara or Pope freaking out over him all the time. There’s the side of him that wants to just go away forever, to forget everything shitty that’s happened and everything shitty that’s going to happen and pretend the best friend he loved more than anything in the world is just going to walk through the door any second, throw himself down on the couch with a sigh and sling his arm around JJ’s shoulder; _hey dude, you want a beer?_

He’s guessing that’s the side that’s baser- whatever the fuck it means. The better side, though, _that’s_ the side he knows he should stick with, the side that will stop drinking so much and talk about his feelings and maybe, someday, tell Kiara all of the things he’s wanted to tell her for weeks- hell, months even. Be a better person and get over his shit and become everything that his deadbeat drunk of a father is _not_.

JJ sends Kiara another text. **JJ [10:48]** i do wanna tell u things K but its really hard

 **Kiara [10:49]** yeah I know it’s okay.

 **JJ [10:49]** no its not im sorry for not being able 2 u shouldnt have 2 deal with this

He glances upwards sees her typing beside him, but after a moment she stops and switches her phone off, turning her head to the side so their eyes lock together. 

“Don’t be sorry.” She says quietly, and JJ watches as she gnaws at her lip, hand fidgeting underneath the quilt, lacing and unlacing their fingers, playing with his rings. “You don’t have to be sorry. You’re not _allowed_ to be sorry, J.”

“Why not?”

Kiara gives him a look JJ has grown to know so well- eyebrows furrowed slightly, nose wrinkled, kind of like a ‘are you fucking kidding me, stop being an idiot’ type of look- and he braces himself for what John B used to call The Pogue Mom Attack. But Kiara just sighs and slumps back down with her head on his shoulder- Pope still asleep on the other one. She slips off one of his rings and slides it onto her finger, pushing it up and down and twisting it round and round. JJ can’t help but think about how good it looks on her. 

“Why not?” Kiara repeats his question back to him, and he nods. “Because it’s not your fault.” She says. “Nothing that’s happened is your fault, and the way you’re dealing with it- well, the way you’re _not_ dealing with it is not your fault either. It’s fucking awful, but it’s not your fault.”

JJ smiles, still watching her mess around with his ring, unable to take his eyes away from it. “You sound like the therapist from Good Will Hunting, Kie.”

“Yeah, well, I was meant to.” 

“So this is therapy now?”

“No, cause I know how much you fucking hate therapy.”

“I’ve never even been.” He says, and Kiara snorts. 

“Exactly.”

They lie there for some time afterwards, watching but not really concentrating on the movie in front of them. JJ shifts so he can get his arm around Kiara’s shoulder, and she burrows down further into his side, head on his chest, unmoving even when he puts his hand in her hair and starts to comb it gently between his fingers. 

“You wanna hear my girl story?” Kiara mumbles. 

“Only if it’s not about periods.” 

Kiara snorts again, and JJ feels her whole body soften against the movement of his hand in her hair. “No, dumbass, I meant my dating-a-girl story.”

“Oh. In that case, absolutely.”

Kiara launches into the story, about how she meant this girl- at Kook Academy. She talks about how they met one lunch, when they to rescue some turtles down at the beach and ended up making out for ten minutes. “I mean, we _did_ rescue the turtles, obviously. We just got kinda…distracted.” She tells JJ about what happened after; how they told everyone they were just friends- best friends, in fact- and only hung out in secret so no one would realise what they were really doing. 

“I didn’t think your parents would be the homophobic type, Kie.”

“Oh, no, they’re not. The girl was just scared, I guess. I was out pretty much at the start of seventh grade, to be honest, I mean, my parents don’t give a shit who I date as long as they’re a kook.”

“Pogue-a-phobic, then.”

“Sure. Now shut up and let me finish the story.”

She’s about halfway in when she mentions something about the girl’s ‘asshole drug addict brother’, and only then does JJ realise the girl isn’t just anyone, but Sarah. As in _Sarah Cameron_ Sarah. He doesn’t say anything for ages, just to make sure he’s not making it up, but when Kiara tells him how the girl ditched her as soon as things got serious, JJ knows he’s got the right person.

“I didn’t think you were the Sarah Cameron type, to be honest, Kie.” 

Kiara lets out a long sigh, and her finger taps against his stomach. JJ notices she’s still wearing his ring. 

“Yeah, me neither. Not until then, anyway. My type was like, tall athletic basketball players with baseball caps and Nike’s.”

“Huh, sounds like me.”

JJ wouldn’t have said anything in any other situation, but the warmth of the bodies beside him and Kiara’s head on his chest and the strange, unknown feeling of comfort washing over him makes him feel more relaxed than he’s felt in a long time, and some part of him knows that even if he does say it, she’ll probably take it as a joke and he can forget he ever opened his stupid mouth. So he says it, expecting Kiara to laugh it off, punch his arm and say _‘Ha-ha, very funny, loser.’_

But she doesn’t. She just shrugs a little, hand moving up to fiddle with the worn-out collar of JJ’s shirt. “Yeah, kinda does, doesn’t it?”

JJ doesn’t really know what the fuck to say to that, so he keeps quiet. There’s a faint sound of a car in the distance, though he doesn’t pay much attention to it. It’s only when the noise gets louder- an engine roaring, so deafening it sounds like it’s pulling up right next to the chateau- and the unmistakable slam of a car door reverberates right through the floorboards; that’s when he realises who’s outside.

“ _Shit."_ JJ scrambles off the pull-out so fast he nearly elbows Pope right in the face. Kiara’s halfway off the couch, too, most likely pushed off it by the force of JJ sitting up. Her eyes are wide, and for a second she looks really, really pissed off. 

“JJ what the-”

JJ clamps a hand over her mouth before she can say anything, so all that comes out is an angry squeak. “Shh.” He whispers. “Be quiet.”

“JJ, what are you doing?” JJ turns his head to Pope, who’s upright in a sitting position, eyes bleary with sleep, looking dazed and confused from being woken up so abruptly. He would have laughed at the sight of his best friend looking so ridiculously out of it if it weren’t for the fact that his dad was right outside, most likely drunk, and probably with some sort of heavy metal object waiting in the back of his car. 

“JJ!” From outside, Luke starts yelling, and JJ watches as both Pope and Kiara’s eyes widen. “Come out here, you goddamn lying piece of shit! I know you’re in there!”

“ _Fuck._ Stay here.” JJ tells them, although his voice is wavering and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t sound nearly as confident as he’s trying to be. “I’ll go see what he wants, okay?”

“No! What the hell, JJ, you’re not going with him, okay? Just stay here.” Kiara tries to grab his hand, but he pulls away sharply, moving closer towards the door. 

“Look, it’ll be better if I just go. He’ll do what he wants and then I’ll come back, alright? I go, no one else gets hurt. He won’t give a shit about you two if I just do what he says.”

“No, JJ, you’re not going with him!” He winces at the way Kiara sounds; whispering, voice heavy and hoarse, tinged with fear and laced with a desperation JJ has never heard in her before. But he’s got no choice, he _has_ to go, and no amount of her pleading stops him from heading towards the door. 

“JJ, please don’t go, please-”

JJ tries desperately to block out the sound. When Pope joins in, it’s way too much, and he turns around abruptly, first pressing a kiss to Pope’s cheek like he always does, and then before he can stop himself one to Kiara’s mouth- just a quick one, so fast it’s practically over before it begins and he’s not even sure whether she’s realised what he’s done. 

“I love you guys, alright? I’ll come back later.” He says, and then he’s slamming the door and running across the grass to where his dad stands, drunker than he’s ever seen him, half-slouching against the bonnet as if it’s the only thing that’s holding him up. Before Luke can say anything, JJ grabs the keys from his hand. 

“I’m driving.” He spits out. “We’ll go wherever you wanna go, just leave them out of it.”

Kiara’s only just reached the car when JJ pulls off the drive. He presses the accelerator down so hard it sends the car flying down the road, and watches her collapse onto the floor through his wing mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked this chapter. originally, i wasn't going to put luke in this story at all, but for the sake of the plot i think it needed to happen, i hope this does not affect your reading in any way. take notice of the trigger warnings, especially in upcoming chapters. <3
> 
> aaand if you would like to listen to the FULL playlist the pogues r listening to in this chapter here is the link!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7yVvqJzsMfJMPFeT1NPUiY?si=f2hVgC_ORN2bL4JIoR4DAw


	6. Don't drink and drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry if my characterisation of Kiara's parents is completely off, we saw like 5 minutes of them in the show and I can't really remember them, but wanted to include them regardless!! hope you enjoy the chapter anyhow.
> 
> TW's- mentioned alcohol abuse, physical abuse (and drink driving-ish?)

-Kiara-

“ _Don’t worry,_

_about a thing,_

_cause every little thing gonna be alright…”_

John B’s van jolts unsteadily as Kiara accelerates over a pothole in the road, ignoring Pope’s cries of protest and the string of curses he lets out as he clutches the grab handle. “Jesus christ, Kie, are you trying to get us killed? Slow down!” 

She can’t slow down, not right now. She doesn’t even know where she’s driving to, exactly. They’re too far behind JJ to be following his car, but if she had to take a guess, she thinks he’s most likely heading to Luke’s house. So she drives in the direction she thinks is right, foot completely down on the accelerator, swinging round corners while the old tyres screech in complaint against the gravel.

“ _Singin': "don't worry,_

_about a thing,_

_'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"_

“Would you turn that fucking thing off!” Kiara screams in frustration, and Pope almost flies off his seat as he tries, and fails, to flip the radio switch. They career round another corner faster this time, rocks and dirt flying up from the road and hitting the underside of the van so hard they can hear them clunk heavily against the metal.

_”Rise up this mornin',_

_Smiled with the risin' sun,_

_Three little birds_

_Pitch by my doorstep…”_

“Kiara, _please_ slow down.” Pope pleads. She moves her eyes from where they’re fixated on the road and sees him leaning back in his chair, arms braced against the sides of it like he’s on a rollercoaster or something. He looks sweaty and out of breath, and when she turns back to look in the rear-view, she’s the same; strands of dark hair stuck to her forehead, chest heaving up and down, hands wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel her knuckles are already turning white.

“We can’t just turn up at Luke’s door, you know that- Kie, listen to me, we can’t-”

“Why the hell not?” Kiara snarls. “If it were you instead of JJ, he wouldn’t-” She swerves to avoid another hole in the road, and Pope snatches a hold of the handle again- “he wouldn’t just _leave_ you there, would he?”

“No, but this is different-”

“Oh, so you’re saying _we_ should leave him? That’s a great idea, I love that Pope, that’s fucking genius!” She knows she should stop talking- stop driving, actually, and think about what she’s doing. But it’s like something inside her has snapped, and she can’t get herself to think properly. The tiny piece of string that had been holding her together for so long has completely broken, and now Kiara feels like she’s flying off the handle- suspended in mid-air, going and going and going to try and delay the time she’s stuck there for so she doesn’t have to hit the ground.

Because she knows it’s gonna hurt when she does.

“Kiara, listen!” Pope is yelling, now, and somehow that’s enough to bring Kiara down a little, because Pope’s always been the quietest of them all and seeing him scream at her like she’s about to kill them both is way too much for her. She slows down enough for it to stop feeling like they’re going to swerve off the road, blinking back the tears in her eyes that are making it hard to see.

“We’ve got to get your parents.” Pope says, and for a moment Kiara doesn’t know if she heard him right. He says it again, and she turns to him quickly, feeling a sickening bubble of rage start to rise up in her stomach. 

“What are you talking about? We can’t tell anyone, they’ll get DCS on his ass, you know that!”

“Yes, but we have no choice right now, and- holy _shit_ , eyes on the road, Kie. What I’m saying is we have no choice, this is way out of our control.”

“The hell are you on about, of course we have a choice! We’re _not_ telling my parents, JJ will kill us.”

“To hell with what JJ thinks. Luke’s gonna kill him, Kie, I mean- we stole his boat, for god’s sake, and JJ took that money, which he _still owes,_ by the way. He could actually _kill_ him, don’t you get it? We need to tell someone! I know we haven’t before, but this is different, okay? And my dad’s not home and my mom wouldn’t know what to do if I told her, so we have you get yours. We can convince them to lay off the DCS if you want, but we can’t get JJ back on our own. Are you even listening to me? Kiara!”

Ahead of them, the road forks to the left, and in a split second Kiara is turning the wheel and they’re hurtling down the lane that leads to Figure Eight. 

She knows Pope is right. _Fuck._ She knows he’s right, he’s always right, and she knows JJ’s gonna hate them for telling someone and maybe never talk to them again, but it’s a hell of a lot better than him being _dead_. It’s gonna hurt, and Kiara can’t even imagine what it will be like without JJ – she doesn’t ever want to imagine- but it really is their only option, and as much as it kills her she’s already driving down the road to her parents house, clamping her teeth down to stop herself from screaming out of the open window.

When they pull up outside Kiara’s house, all the lights are off apart from one lamp, shining through the shutters from the living room. She hasn’t been here much since the whole thing with John B and Sarah, and a part of her feels guilty that she left them to go stay with JJ at the chateau- but she knows it would have been unbearable to be around them, anyway. They let her go off, after the first day, after she yelled at them non-stop and ended up storming out of the house more than once. Her mom insisted she kept them updated through her phone while she was with JJ- a few calls, texts every day- but somehow it felt wrong, like they’re part of a different family.

“Mom!” Kiara’s shouting before she’s even got fully out of the car. She turns the ignition off and grabs her keys, scrambling up the steps to the porch and jamming them in the lock, Pope close behind her. “Dad?” 

The light flicks on, and Kiara’s dad emerges into the kitchen wearing his nightclothes and a confused frown. When he sees Kiara’s tearstained face, her shaking hands that are struggling to hold the keys without dropping them onto the floor, his eyes darken, and he moves across the room quickly. 

“Kiara, what the hell’s going on?” His voice is soft, and Kiara has to resist the urge to drop to her knees right there on the kitchen floor. Her mom appears from behind, and soon she’s enveloped in a tangle of arms and long hair, struggling for breath as her mom squeezes her tightly.

“Oh, honey, are you okay? We thought you were coming home tonight.” Her mom takes her face in her hands, scanning her up and down. “What happened?”

A lot of things. A lot of things fucking happened. 

“Uh, Mr Carerra, Mrs Carerra…sorry it’s late, but we need your help.” Beside them, Pope shifts his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. He looks anxious, biting his lip as his eyes dart nervously around, and suddenly Kiara remembers what they’re there for and it’s like all of the air has been sucked out of her lungs at once. A sob escapes before she can cover her mouth.

“Hey, baby, what is it?” Kiara’s mom takes her by the hands- they’re shaking like crazy, and she can’t remember how to speak, so she turns to Pope and widens her eyes desperately. _Talk for me._

“It’s JJ…” Pope starts to speak, and Kiara stops concentrating. She’s still wearing JJ’s ring- the thin gold one that only just fits onto his finger and is much better on hers- and when she looks at it more closely there’s an inscription around the edge that she’s never noticed before: ‘ _natalie._ ’

Natalie? Kiara doesn’t think she’s ever heard of that name before, not in JJ’s family, anyway; but she has a feeling it’s his mom’s. Natalie Maybank, his own mother, and all he has left of her is a ring with her name on it? 

Damn. 

She doesn’t stop staring at it until her dad says something about ‘the police’, and all of a sudden it’s like someone’s just slapped her hard in the face. She jolts back into reality, grabbing him by the arm. 

“You can’t call the police, dad, please.”

“What the hell else did you expect us to do, Kiara?” He asks incredulously, already heading towards the phone. “Take Maybank down on our own? If you really want my help, I’m calling Shoupe-”

“No, dad, _stop_.” She’s at the side of him within seconds, ignoring her mother’s protests and slamming her hand over the phone. “If you call the police it’s just gonna be worse for JJ, okay, he fucking hates cops, and he’ll probably try and fight them or something and get himself in trouble and then he’ll be going to prison as well as his dad and he’s smoked _so much_ weed tonight they’ll probably just take him in for that, and I know you hate him and I don’t care what you think or if you wanna send him to foster care once this is over because I’d rather that than him live with Luke, but right now we can’t call the cops cause it’s just gonna make things worse and his dad’s gonna _kill him_ if we don’t try to get him out of there, and I can’t just sit here and leave him in that house so can we _please_ just drive there and make sure he can get out and then we won’t bother you again, okay?”

Three minutes later they’re in her dad’s car, all four of them, hightailing it down the road back towards The Cut. Kiara’s mom won’t stop talking, about how she knows Kiara doesn’t want the cops to show, "but it really isn’t up to us, honey, if DCS are going to get involved then the police will too. And we might not even be able to get him out of the house right now if-”

“Mom, stop it.”

“I’m sorry, I know you’re worried, I do, but you have to understand, Kiara-”

“ _Mom!_ ” Kiara yells. It comes out in a burst of anger, loud and explosive and possibly the most hostile she’s ever been towards her parents, and for a moment the car is uncomfortably quiet. Her parents turn towards each other and for a split second she catches a glance between them that’s hard to read, before they turn their eyes back to the road and it’s like it never happened.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Pope says, his voice wavering. “We’ll get him outta there.”

Kiara isn’t so sure. She’s scared of what Luke might do, of course- but deep down she knows she’s terrified too that, maybe, JJ won’t _want_ to come back with them. Not after they’ve told her parents, not now that DCS might take him away. It’ll all be her fault, and he’ll never talk to her again, and it’s all she can think of until they turn a corner in the road and come face to face with a police car- no, _four_ of them, all parked around a smashed up vehicle that looks like it’s spun straight off the road and hit about five trees in the process.

Kiara’s out of the car and running before her parents or Pope can stop her. She gets about ten feet away from it when her body slams into something hard, and it takes her a second to realise that it’s Shoupe, holding her back, away from the car that’s front is a pile of glass and metal shards. It feels like when he told her John B and Sarah were dead, and it’s really scaring the shit out of her, so she does the only thing she can think of to do and tries to writhe out of his grasp, swearing and yelling and aiming kicks wherever she can.

“Let go!” She screams. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Kiara, calm down. He’s okay.” 

Kiara doesn’t listen. Her chest heaves and she can feel herself start to cry, huge awful sobs that sound vaguely hysterical, trying to struggle past Shoupe until the reality of what he said hits her. She stops moving, breathing heavily into the cold air. “What?”

“He’s okay.” Shoupe says again. “He’s fine, he’s alright.“ He points over to one of the police cars, but Kiara doesn’t have to look because she can tell where JJ is just by listening. He’s stood by an open door, swearing loudly, yelling at the cops around him- visibly recoiling every time one of them tries to get close. From where she’s standing, he doesn’t look as bad as she imagined he would. No broken bones, by the looks of it, but there’s a dark purple bruise starting to form right around his cheekbone, and one on his jawline, too; a split lip and a slight gash on his forehead that’s trickling blood down the side of his face. He looks across and meets her gaze, eyes going wide. _Kiara?_ She can almost hear him say it in his head. _Kiara Kiara Kiara Kiara_ and suddenly she can’t take it anymore, and she’s running towards him with Pope and her parents somewhere behind. Shoupe doesn’t try to stop her this time, and she barrels into JJ's arms with so much force he nearly topples over into the back of the police car.

“Kiara.” He says her name out loud. His voice is thick, and she can tell he’s trying not to cry.

“JJ.” She says back- she _is_ crying, letting out the horrible choking sound she always makes when she cries in between sobs, taking his face in her hands sort of the way her mom did before, scanning his features and trying not to press down too much on the bruises. “What happened?”

“He grabbed the wheel.” JJ says, and Kiara’s heart snaps in two. “I was tryna stall going home, I don’t know, he was so drunk I thought he wouldn’t notice if I just went round the same goddamn corner three hundred times, but he figured out what I was doing and just- grabbed it. Some dick who lives round here called the cops.” 

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” Kiara buries her head in his shoulder, eyes burning, chest shuddering with each inhale. “I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

After a second something else barrels into them, and Kiara feels Pope’s arms circle them both. “I’m sorry.” She says again, and JJ’s hand finds her hair. 

“What are you sorry for?” He lets out a choked laugh. “He’s my fucking dad.”

And then, his hand goes still, and Kiara realises where he’s looking. She lifts her head from his shoulder and watches as his eyes lock on her parents standing next to Shoupe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank y'all for your support, it's so lovely to read your comments. not sure how long this fic is going to be but i still have some stuff i need to wrap up so it will be at least a few more chapters before it's finished. xx


	7. The ocean and salt and flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy the chapter. by the way things have gone, this will be the last one before the epilogue- thank you to everyone who has supported my writing, i am forever grateful <3
> 
> TW's- mentioned physical abuse, alcohol abuse/ alcoholism, and Luke being a piece of shite.
> 
> also, I hope you don't mind the absolute s l o w b u r n that this is- I didn't want to rush their relationship and that's why it's not very explicit- but I hope you see why I made that choice. :) ALSO my ITALICS ARE NOT WORKING sorryyyyy.

-JJ-

JJ’s running before Kiara gets the chance to say anything. 

He knows he shouldn’t be angry. He knows she’s done nothing wrong- that the police would have found out sooner or later, when they finally took Luke in to the station and realised that his blood alcohol level was about 300 times higher than any normal person should have been able to handle. He knows she was only trying to help, that calling on her parents must have been a last resort, maybe because she was scared he was going to get an endless stream of drunken abuse hurled his way, or hurt- or worse. He _knows_ all of this, but it doesn’t stop him from running, because he’s JJ fucking Maybank, when does he ever just stay still and let things hit him? He’s gotten so used to dodging anything that comes his way- figurately _and_ literally- and right now is no exception. 

__

__So he runs. And he runs, and he runs until his chest is heaving and his lungs feel like they’re on fire and he can’t take a full breath in. He runs until his legs give out, and as soon as his knees hit the ground he lets out a scream so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if they heard it all the way back by the road._ _

__

__Sometime later- a long time, judging by the moon that’s high up in the sky- Kiara finds him. He thinks she might have walked all the way there by herself, but he doesn’t look up as she moves toward him- stopping a couple meters back. The leaves crunch under her feet as she shifts from one foot to the other._ _

__

__“You know I didn’t want to.”_ _

__

__JJ scoffs, kicking the dirt with one of his boots. He can’t bring himself to look up and meet her eyes, only because he knows she’s probably crying, and he’s meant to be mad at her. He’s always been good at holding a grudge, sure; but when Kiara cries, any anger he’s been directing at her just ends up melting away like butter in a saucepan._ _

__

__“I just…” She pauses, inhaling deeply, and JJ has to squeeze his eyes shut to stop himself from picturing her with tears running down her cheeks. “I didn’t want to, I swear to god I didn’t, but I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know where to go, I- _fuck_ , JJ, you can’t be mad at me for this. I didn’t have a choice.”_ _

__

__“You could’ve just left it, Kie, like every other goddamn time it’s ever-”_ _

__

__“I thought he was gonna _kill_ you!” She cuts him off sharply. “I thought he was gonna kill you, and even if I hadn’t told my parents the cops would have found out anyway. I mean, Luke was the one who made you crash the car, so they were bound to figure it out sooner or later. I was worried about you, asshole, but I’m sorry for fucking caring.” _ _

__

__Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her slump down onto the ground and lean her back against a tree. For a moment, JJ has nothing to say. His head hurts, and it feels like he’s going to throw up, and he really wants a drink. He knows he’s being a complete dick, and he wants to tell her he’s sorry, but he can’t do it, because he doesn’t know how. He wants her to put her arms around him- fucking cheesy, but he doesn’t care. He just wants her to hold him right there in the dirt like she’s done before until he’s forgotten every single shitty thing that’s happened. He wants her to, but he doesn’t say, because he doesn’t know how._ _

__

__“Shoupe wants to talk to you.” He looks up, and sees Kiara’s got her head in her hands. “He’s tryna figure out what to do, now that your dad…” The way she stops mid-sentence makes his gut twist painfully._ _

__

__“Now that my dad…?” He prompts. She lifts her head, and when he meets her eyes, there’s something in them that scares him. All of a sudden he’s not sure he wants her to keep going._ _

__

__“Now that…”_ _

__

__JJ feels the tether that’s holding him together start to break even more. “What the fuck are you trying to say, Kie? Just spit it out already!”_ _

__

__It snaps completely when Kiara screams at him. “He’s dead! He’s dead. Your dad’s fucking dead. He hit his head way too hard, and they thought he was just unconscious, but then- _shit.”__ _

__

___For a moment, JJ just sits there._ _ _

__

___And then he shoots up from the ground, stumbling over to a nearby tree, and throws up behind it- again, and again, until he’s pretty sure it’s just acid coming up. Kiara’s hands ground him a little; one on his back and one in his hair, but he can’t stop picturing his dad leaning over dashboard, unmoving._ _ _

__

___He’s thought about his dad being dead a lot. About how much easier his life would be if Luke had just taken one too many pills, or drunk one to many beers, or set the house on fire while he was still in it. Hell, he nearly did kill his dad, once. Well, he thought about it, anyway. He thought about it, and then forgot it- the threat of foster care on the mainland enough to stop his thought process almost immediately. But now that he knows it- know that his dad really _is_ dead, he doesn’t know what to do. _ _ _

__

___When he sits back up again, Kiara moves away a little, creating distance between them once more. He can see what she’s trying to do, what she’s trying to ask him. _Do you need space? Do you want me to be here, or do you want me to go? Are you still angry, JJ?__ _ _

__

___JJ knows the answer- and even if he can’t say it, he’s so fucking grateful that she understands without him having to. With a quick nod, he makes sure she understands, and- without breaking down and crying, like any normal person who’d just lost a parent would- he reaches out his arms almost desperately, like a child, and watches Kiara crawl across the ground and curl into them._ _ _

__

___“I would say I’m sorry,” she says into his chest, “but I don’t know if I am. Is that bad?”_ _ _

__

___JJ tightens his arms around her and breathes in shakily, blinking tears from his eyes. The night air is cold, and they’re both starting to shiver. “Maybe. I don’t know.”_ _ _

__

___Kiara lifts up her head. She takes his face in her hands, careful of the bruises, scanning all over. When she touches his cheek, he doesn’t pull away._ _ _

__

___“You’re freezing.” She says quietly. Her breath feels hot against his face._ _ _

__

___“So are you.” JJ notices her eyes start to trail downwards- and the second she looks at his lips he knows what she’s thinking. For some reason, it doesn’t freak him out as much as he thought it would. For some reason, it feels _right_ , like he’s been waiting so long for it to happen and suddenly it’s like it’s been there all along- like he _needs_ it, really needs it._ _ _

__

___Before he can stop himself he blurts out, “You don’t wanna do that, Kie.”_ _ _

__

___“Why not?” She gives him a strange look, but as her breathing hitches he can tell exactly what she’s thinking, that she’s regretting it already. He can almost hear her say it: _Your right. It’s not the right time. It’s a bad time. A really, really bad time. And I need to think of Pope, and-_ _ _ _

__

___JJ’s not thinking of that, though. He couldn’t care less if it was the right time, or the wrong time, or any other time, but strangely the only thing his brain can think about is the fact that he has no toothpaste on hand._ _ _

__

___“I just threw up, Kie.” He says. “That’s disgusting. At least wait until I’ve brushed my teeth.”_ _ _

__

___The corner’s of Kiara’s mouth turn upwards slightly, and she nods. “Okay.” Her fingers hover over the dried blood on the side of his face, gently tracing over the blue and purple covering the other side so lightly and carefully he can barely feel it._ _ _

__

___It feels weird, that they’re acting so normal when in reality everything is completely different. They’re sitting on the floor in the middle of the woods at fuck knows what time in the morning, his dad’s dead and the police are looking for him and soon enough he’ll probably be shipped off to the mainland to live in a shitty foster home for the next two years. But somehow, they’re acting normal. Somehow, they’re getting through it as if nothing ever happened._ _ _

__

___JJ feels the familiar urge for a drink twisting deep down in the pit of his stomach, and it jolts him back into the real world way too fast. Kiara must sense the panic, because she’s pulling him gently to his feet before he can really think about it._ _ _

__

___“We should go.” She says softly. There’s a kindness in her words that seems to fill the gaping hole in his chest in a matter of seconds. When she presses her forehead against his, they both shiver at the same time. “It’s gonna be okay.”_ _ _

__

___“Do you promise?” JJ knows he sounds like a fucking _child_ , and for a moment he’s utterly embarrassed- but then he realises something. He _is_ a child. He’s just a kid, and he’s afraid, and he’s tired, he can’t keep running anymore. His legs buckle underneath him out of nowhere, and he’s vaguely aware that Kiara’s the only thing holding him up._ _ _

__

___“I promise.” She says. “I swear to god, JJ, it’s gonna be okay.”_ _ _

__

___JJ goes home with Pope that morning. The cops want to question him- about the car, about his dad, about _everything_ , but he’s so exhausted he can barely hold his head up by himself, and Pope’s mom is insistent that they give him some time. _'Just let him stay with us for now, please. He needs this, don’t you understand?'_ Kiara buries her face in his hair and Pope wraps his arms around them both and they cry and cry and cry, just like they did after the storm. Kiara’s parents have to drag her away practically kicking and screaming, and even though it hurts him, JJ knows it’s probably for the best. He doesn’t want her getting mixed up in his shit any more than she has been. _ _ _

__

___When they get back to Pope’s, he brushes his teeth, washes the blood off his face, passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow and sleeps for fourteen hours straight. He wakes up in the little spare room sometime the following evening, confused and disorientated and really wanting a beer, and it takes him a while to notice Kiara curled up beside him, fiddling with his hair._ _ _

__

___“I yelled at my parents and they let me come over.” She says, by way of an explanation. “Cops are gonna talk to you tomorrow.” JJ just nods. He feels too drained to do anything else, and there’s still a pit in his stomach- that horrible feeling like on a rollercoaster right when you drop into mid-air, that’s making him feel slightly nauseous._ _ _

__

___“You want me to tell you a story again?”_ _ _

__

___“Mm-hmm.”_ _ _

__

___“Okay. Uh, hold on. I’m thinking.” This time, Kiara’s story takes him by surprise. This time, she talks about John B._ _ _

__

___JJ closes his eyes._ _ _

__

___He misses him. Much more than his dad, although that’s a given. John B was his best friend, and, though Pope and Kiara both are too, with him it was different- they all knew it. He was the one who had been with him since they were little; hanging around the chateau and fishing on the weekends with Big John while he told them stories and let them steal sips of beer when they thought he wasn’t looking. Tiptoeing around JJ’s own house and climbing in through the window of his room to get a change of clothes and his toothbrush; stepping over empty bottles- and sometimes his dad- to get back out again._ _ _

__

___They were inseparable, brothers from the day they were born- until the time JJ thought they weren’t, when for a moment he thought that he wanted them to be something different. It lasted barely half a day before he forced himself to forget it completely. It made him feel sick just thinking about it, and before he even had the chance to contemplate what it meant, he was on the way to his house where his dad was waiting, wasted and high and barely conscious. JJ was ready to provoke him enough so that he would punch it out of him somehow._ _ _

__

___And he thought he _had_ done. Until he turned 15, and he thought about it again. This time, he slept with some tourist he met at the boneyard. She looked a little bit like Kiara, but he didn’t want to think about that, either. _ _ _

__

___“JJ?” Kiara’s voice is soft. “I can stop if you want me to. We don’t have to talk about him like this.”_ _ _

__

___JJ turns onto his side and shuffles down a bit so his eyes are level with hers. When she reaches for her phone in her back shorts pocket, he stops her._ _ _

__

___“You don’t want me to?”_ _ _

__

___“No.” No, he wants to talk to her- _really_ talk to her, face to face, instead of just words on a screen. “I wanna talk, for real. But first I need you to know something.”_ _ _

__

___“What?”_ _ _

__

___“I’m gonna ruin your fucking life if you stay with me, Kie.” He says it with no self-pity at all, because in his head it sounds perfectly true, but by the way Kiara narrows her eyes and gives him her classic ‘What the fuck, I’m going to kill you’ face, he realises that it probably wasn’t the right thing to say at all._ _ _

__

___“No.” She shakes her head and frowns even more, but her eyes still seem to sparkle. “No, you’re not. Don’t be an idiot.”_ _ _

__

___“I’m not.”_ _ _

__

___“Yes, you _are_.” She pauses, brushing the hair from in front of his eyes, fingers moving down to touch his lips lightly. Her eyes flicker downwards, and this time JJ doesn’t tell her to stop. “Did you brush them?”_ _ _

__

___“What?”_ _ _

__

___“Your teeth. Did you brush them?”_ _ _

__

___JJ feels himself smile. “Yes I brushed them, cause I’m not gross, Kie.”_ _ _

__

___“Good.”_ _ _

__

___“Well, technically I brushed them at like four this morning, but-”_ _ _

__

___“Oh, shut up.”_ _ _

__

___Kiara’s lips are soft and she tastes like the ocean and salt and flowers, and suddenly the pit in his stomach shrinks and it’s like he can’t possibly think of anything else but he doesn’t _want_ to, because he knows that if this is the last thing he ever does, and if _she_ is the last thing he ever sees, it will be more than enough. He’s JJ Maybank, and he couldn’t ask for anything better._ _ _

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the songs for this chapter, and for pretty much this whole fic, are 'carry you' by ruelle and fleurie (a very sad beautiful bOp), 'runaway' by ed sheeran, 'sober up' by AJR and also 'orion's belt' by sabrina claudio <3


	8. EPILOGUE: Shut up and eat your damn burrito.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is IT. i cried writing the end of this. it feels like such an end of an era, wowie.
> 
> hope you enjoy. <3

-JJ-

They get the postcard from John B and Sarah three months later. 

JJ finds it first. He’s just come home from therapy, _rehab_ , whatever the fuck its called- home to Pope’s house, where he’s living now that the Heywards’ have adopted him. Literally adopted him. JJ still can’t get his head around that; why they did it, why they would _want_ to do it, but Kiara’s told him enough times to take what he can get and stop fucking asking why. _’They took you in, JJ, so shut up and eat your damn burrito.’_ He’s barely walked in the front door when he catches sight of it, folded halfway underneath his boot, and by the time Pope comes home from work five minutes later he’s already got tears streaming down his face, jumping up and down in the living room in a sort of uncontrollable hysteria.

_in the bahamas, babyyyy. sorry we took so long. harvesting the wheat as we speak. missing u guys a (400) million times a day._

They decide to keep it a secret, from their parents, from the cops, from anyone just until it’s safe enough to talk about; until John B and Sarah are home, whenever that will be. JJ hates not telling Pope’s family. It feels wrong in so many ways to be keeping such a huge secret from the people who took him in when he hadn’t got a home to go to, when he was fucked up and alone and turning into a budding alcoholic. But he knows it would screw everything up if they did, and he wants to see his best friend again- so he stays quiet. He stays quiet for seven months, and it’s _brutal_ , but it’s worth it. It’s worth it when his best friend walks through the door and it’s not a dream or JJ’s imagination. It’s _real._

Travelling is the first thing they do together, for a whole year afterwards. All of them, including John B and Sarah, who JJ jokes won’t make it to 19 without getting married first.

(They don’t. Pope owes JJ $100.)

It’s sort of disgusting how much of a couple they are, but he can’t say much, because Kiara and he are undoubtedly no better. Pope joins them, with his new boyfriend he met on the mainland, a tall guy with shaggy hair and freckles. It makes JJ feel better, Pope having a boyfriend. It makes him feel a _lot_ better. He doesn’t see it coming, though, and neither does John B.

“Woah, you’re not straight either, Pope? Are JJ and I the _only_ straight ones?” 

“Uh, I hate to break it to you, but I’m not straight either, dude.”

“Exactly! We’re both so boring, JJ and- wait, what did you say?”

For the second and third years, it’s just JJ and Kiara. Antarctica, Iceland, India, Chile… JJ loses track of how many places they visit. Germany, England, Japan. In New Zealand, he’s been sober for a year, no relapses. They get tattoos that night, on the anniversary of his sobriety, or _‘sober as fuck’ day_ as Kiara likes to call it. Matching ones, which should be a recipe for disaster but for some reason JJ likes the idea. It feels right somehow, sitting in a tattoo parlour at 2am with his foot on one table and Kiara’s on the other, getting a dolphin to cover up the scar on his ankle from when his dad tripped him up with something sharp and watching as the exact same picture appear on hers. She smiles at him through gritted teeth as the needle goes in. “I better not regret this, Maybank.”

JJ smirks. “I’m sure you will, Carerra.”

She doesn’t. 

JJ knows she doesn’t, because they get married five years later. A year after that, they find out she’s pregnant. They’re living in a house on the Mainland (though they’ve promised each other after a couple years they’ll move out to somewhere more interesting), have a dog called Marley, a greenhouse, three lemon trees and four chickens, all because of Kiara’s desire to become more self-sufficient. “Do you know how much unnatural stuff goes into store-bought food? It’s ridiculous, we might as well be eating our own shit. And it’s not good for the animals, either.” JJ names them all, and it’s not hard to come up with stupid ones (like Big D, for example. Kiara is not happy, but he uses the ‘I’ve been sober for ~however much time~ so you have to listen to me’ and she lets him have it.) 

It’s harder to pick a baby name. For the first few months he finds it hard to sleep sometimes. Swinging out in the backyard in their hammock, Marley nuzzled by his side, he thinks about what it’ll be like when he becomes a dad. It’s not like he doesn’t want to- it’s Kiara’s baby, and he really, really wants to, more than anything in the world, but it’s scares him. It scares the living shit out of him, because he knows what fathers can be like. He knows they’re not always what you want them to be, and he’s scared as soon as the kid is born he’ll turn into exactly what his own father was to him. He’s already struggled with alcohol for half of his life, and he’s only 25. What happens if being a fucking asshole is just genetic?

-Kiara-

Kiara finds him outside one night, half asleep on the hammock, swinging softly. She knows he hasn’t been sleeping, and there’s a horrible part of her that thinks it’s her fault, but she knows he would hate for her to think that. Of course she knows what it’s really about. 

“Hey.” JJ mumbles as she curls up beside him. His eyes are closed, blonde curls falling in front of his face, but he reaches out and tugs her closer with one arm, resting his hand on her belly that’s only just starting to get bigger. 

“Hey.”

“Was gonna come inside. Just sort of fell asleep.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping, I keep having to pee every five seconds.”

JJ blows a breath out heavily. It reminds her of that night in the Chateau, years ago, when she told him a story. 

“I’m scared I’m gonna be a terrible dad, Kie.”

“You’re not.” She says. 

“How do you know?” JJ pulls her in tighter. “I could be just like mine.”

“But you won’t be.” 

“You don’t know that.”

Kiara makes sure he knows it. She tells him every day, what a wonderful dad she _knows_ he’ll turn out to be, and even halfway through her nine hour labor, when he’s squeezing her hand and making sure she’s breathing right, she tells him again. _You’re gonna be the best goddamn dad in the entire world, JJ. I know it._

They name her Georgia. Georgia Natalie Maybank. She’s got her dad’s eyes and her mom’s wild hair, and as soon as Kiara holds her it’s as if everything else has come to a halt. JJ kisses her hair and sobs into her shoulder and doesn’t stop crying for at least two hours. He can’t take his eyes off the baby, and Kiara loves it. She loves the way his eyes sparkle whenever he looks at her, like she’s the only thing in the whole world, like he’s finally realised what it feels like to be a parent, to love your child so furiously there’s no room left for anything else. It makes her wonder if his own dad felt like that, when he was born. 

“Kie.” JJ’s got his hand out, watching as Georgia grips his finger in her own, eyes wide and round. 

“Yeah?”

He smiles- the biggest smile she’s ever seen him do. 

“Thank you.”

This time, Kiara knows what he’s thanking her for. 

_Thank you for saving me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who has supported this fic. i love you all, you make me so happy. it has been a wild ride, and i am grateful for u reading. stay safe, shut up and eat ur damn burrito. xxxxxx


End file.
